


cum fossa et furca

by andthestorystarts



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, don't give me those judging looks, serial killer au, trigger warning - drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthestorystarts/pseuds/andthestorystarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's a serial killer, who drowns people, that doesn't see the world quite the same as the regular masses.<br/>Jamie's the person who gets his attention, who he starts a 'friendship' with- which becomes more of an obsession, of a fashion. </p><p>Jack sees Jamie, and he thinks,</p><p>'This one's different.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Something I found on Wikipedia-  
> 'In Europe, drowning was used as capital punishment. In fact, during the Middle Ages, a sentence of death was read using the words "cum fossa et furca", or "with drowning-pit and gallows." '
> 
> and thus this was given a name.

People said that murder was morally wrong. Jack didn't see why.

They said that no-one should have that kind of power, to take someone’s life away. Jack's logic was that even if he didn't, other people were going to anyway.

 

-

 

Jack was getting a little impatient. He hadn't been able to get any targets for a while now.

And it was making him twitchy, his fingers wanting to clamp over someone's shoulders or neck and force them down, into and below the cool water, feeling the rush as they went limp, the air bubbles stopping.

He was drying a glass that had stopped needing to be dried half an hour previously, mainly so that he'd have something to keep his hands occupied, so he didn't slip up and make a mistake.

 

A man, looking about Jack's age, mid twenties, approached the counter, looking like he was intending to sit, and Jack slapped on a smile.

When the man did indeed sit, Jack asked, as per his job, 'What's your poison?' 

'Can I get a gin and tonic?' The man let out a breath. 'Thanks.'

As he was making it, Jack asked(slightly louder than usual to be heard above the music), 'Any particular reason why you need one?' Quite often people felt like talking, and talking means that you feel more comfortable with said person, and that always made it easier to spirit them away. 

The man gave a flick of his fingers back towards the big lump of people. 'Just, ugh, it's too loud over there and I just wanted to get away from them.' Didn't seem to want to stay in groups, which was helpful.

Jack hesitated with the small vial of drugs hidden in his hand, pressing into his palm. Something, _something_ about the guy set off- not alarm bells, but some kind of little twitch at the back of his head, saying that this one wasn't entirely like all those others. 

The drink got passed to the man a few seconds later, curiously drug-free.

‘So,’ Jack started, leaning his hip against the counter a little, back to drying the already very-dry glass, ‘You’re first time coming here or something? I don’t think I recall your face.’

  
He got another wave behind the guy’s back as he took a gulp of the drink, who spoke once the glass made contact with the counter again. ‘A few people-’ _People_ , not friends, hmm, ‘dragged me here. I didn’t really get much choice in the matter.’  
  
‘Not too fond of the party scene, huh?’   
  
The man made an expression which made his opinion clear, and Jack gave a small laugh.  
‘Didn’t think so. You don’t really seem the type.’  
  
That got him a look, of interest. ‘What “type” do I seem like to you, then?’  
  
Jack pursed his lips a little, his gaze sliding up and down of what he could see of the man.  
  
‘The kind to prefer sitting and reading over a night on the town.’  
  
He got a little huff of a laugh. ‘That obvious, huh?’  
  
‘When there are precious little of your own kind around, you tend to almost get a radar.’  
  
A slightly disbelieving eyebrow raise. ‘You’re a reader?’  
  
‘I know I don’t look it, but yep.’  
  
‘Say I believe you. Then why do you work at a place like this? At the party end of the scale rather than the book end.’  
  
Jack’s shoulders raised in a shrug. ‘It pays decently.’ He leant forward over the counter, so that he was being supported by his elbows and was suddenly _very_ close to the guy. He flashed a smile.  
‘And plus, I get to meet new people.’  
  
Afterwards, Jack was ready to swear that the man damn near choked on his drink, since he’d unluckily chosen that moment to take another swig from the glass. (The man, of course, would deny it vehemently.)  
  
After the fit of coughing subsided, the man said, ‘I-I’m in a relationship, just so you know.’  
  
‘Hmm. Off-limits, then.’ Jack’s head tilted slightly to the side, as if considering something. ‘I never did let rules stop me.’ Understatement.

 

The guy went red, and Jack gave another little smile, then slapped a hand down on the table and leant back.  
‘ _But_ , I’m going to respect that. So, what’s your name, Mister I’m-in-a-relationship?’  
  
‘Jamie.’ He looked a little more at ease, now. ‘You?’

 

‘Jack.’ Another small smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Jamie.’  
  
The smile was returned. ‘You too, Jack.’  
  
-  
  
After that, Jamie became a more familiar face around the bar, appearing more and more often, never going towards the mass of people in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, always staying near Jack.  
  
A few weeks after they met, Jack slipped in to take his shift, and he gave a small frown at the person who had their head on the counter. Possibly drunk enough to warrant a cab home.  
Or to the nearest lake.  
  
Checking would help, before anything of the sort happened. He leaned across the counter, the wood digging into his stomach a little as he did so, and gave the guys shoulder a little shake.  
‘Hey, you okay?’  
  
The guys head came up immediately, plastered over with a big smile. ‘Jaack!’  
  
Jack blinked. ‘Jamie? What’re you doing?’  
  
He got a little squint at first, then Jamie held up his glass. ‘Whadda ya think, moron?’  
  
He had to bite back a small sigh. ‘I meant, _why_ are you drinking?’ He hadn’t seen him drink this much before, only had enough to calm him down a little. Apparently, now was different.  
  
Jamie frowned, and looked into his glass, avoiding the question for a few seconds. Jack was just about ready to ask again when Jamie spit out quickly,  
  
‘He’sanasshole.’  
  
Getting answers out of a drunk person was extremely irritating and often took a while. Either that or it took a surprisingly little time. This seemed to be roughly somewhere in the middle.  
  
‘Who is?’  
  
‘My boyfr-’ He cut off, giving a little sneer. ‘Sorry, my _ex_.’  
  
Ah. Right.  
  
Jamie’s speech was slow, and slurred enough that Jack felt like he should probably not let him drink the rest of whatever was in his glass, or else it would be hell to try to get him to a car, let alone home.

  
He looked around, spotted one of the other staff, and went over to have a quick conversation.  
  
‘Hey, Sandy?’  
  
The (much) shorter man turned, and gave a smile when he saw who it was.  
  
‘Would you be able to cover my shift? It’s now and I’m sorry to even ask you for this,’ He had put on his God-I’m-Sorry expression, ‘but I really need to get him home.’ He jerked a thumb back towards Jamie, who had propped his hand on the heel of his palm at this point and was looking in their direction, though Jack knew that he wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the music.  
  
Sandy gave Jamie a look, seemed to mentally count off all of the drinks he’d had, then gave Jack a nod, then a little nudge of a push towards Jamie, and gave them both a little wave goodbye.  
  
He let out a sigh and sent the man a smile, ‘Thanks, Sandy.’  
  
He lifted Jamie up, draping one of his arms across his shoulders and ignoring Jamie’s slightly pathetic protest of, ‘But Jaaaaack…’  
  
It took a surprising amount of effort to get him into Jack’s car(more accurately, truck), and by the time that Jack had gotten around to his side and slid into the seat, Jamie was looking round the vehicle in interest.  
‘You know,’ he started, ‘I haven’ been in here b’fore.’  
Jack avoided that, and flicked his fingers toward the road. ‘Which way to your house?’  
  
-  
  
It took longer than it should have, mainly because of Jamie leading him down a few wrong turns, (‘No, th’ _other_ left’) but eventually Jack pulled up into a driveway that had Jamie nodding.  
  
Jamie was trying to open the door when Jack tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Keys?’  
  
He got a blink.  
  
A sigh. ‘You’re having trouble with a car door, you’re not going to fare well against a lock.’  
  
The blink for another moment or two, then fishing around in his pockets, which ended in Jamie triumphantly holding out a set of keys.  
  
‘Glad to know you saw reason.’ He swiped them, wondering if he could somehow sneak the front door key off the chain and get it copied, saying the next time he saw Jamie that he must have dropped it. After all, it’s not like Jamie was paying much attention to something like keys right then.  
  
He was using the method of _‘Use every damn key that’s there until you hit the jackpot’_ and the lock clicked on the fourth key he’d tried.  
 _Method = Success._  
  
He dumped the keys on the table in the little hallway, and kicked backward to shut the door, his hands occupied with making sure that Jamie didn’t slide down and hit the floor.  
  
Jack gave a little huff, shifting his hands so that he got a better grip on Jamie, and started looking through the rooms.  
Jamie wasn’t being much of a help, seeming to be inches from asleep, and therefore not directing him to wherever his bedroom was.  
Jack decided to go with the _‘Check every one until you get it right’_ method again, which is also known as the process of elimination.  
Jack never really cared what it was called, just that it worked.  
  
He finally found what looked like the right room, just when he’d been perilously close to deciding to just (gently) drop Jamie and put a pillow under his head and go find a blanket.  
  
By the time he’d gotten Jamie onto the bed, he was fairly sure that the guy was asleep. He tugged his shoes off, and wondered whether or not to just leave him like that, dressed- minus the shoes. At least he’d be warm. But on the other hand, he knew from experience that jeans were hell to sleep in. He let out a small hum, then set to it, working Jamie’s jeans down his legs, having to shift him a little to do so, folded them and put them on a chair. He was reaching over to grab the blanket when Jamie’s hands wrapped around his arm, and he jumped a little, startled. Jamie was asleep, hadn’t woken up.  
However, he didn’t seem to want to be letting go any time soon. Jack thought of the drive home, and the unused other side of the bed. Tiredness had whacked him like a truck when he had plonked Jamie down on the bed, and he really didn’t like the idea of having to drive all that way back.  
He was sure that they wouldn’t mind if he didn’t show up for his shift just this once.  
  
He toed off his shoes, and tugged off his jeans as best he could with one hand.  
  
Climbing into the bed was surprisingly difficult, since he had to take into account his captive arm, and find a position that wasn’t too uncomfortable.  
Jamie was facing him, and Jack’s gaze trailed over his face, and what wasn’t covered by the duvet.  
For a few seconds, he almost wished that he had talent with pens, pencils, paint, _something_ that he could make with his own hands that could capture what he saw, the slope of Jamie’s nose, the brush of lashes, his collarbones peeking out from under his shirt.  
When he got to the arch of his neck, his eyes skimmed over the skin, wondering how bruises from his fingers would look, dark against the white.  
  
The fingers of his entrapped hand rested lightly against the curve, where neck met shoulder, and though Jack reminded himself that it was far too risky to leave finger marks, he couldn’t resist leaning forward to lick, and suck a hickey onto his neck, another form of bruise.  
  
He drifted to sleep not long after that. 


	2. Confrontations of the dickwad kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit fuzzy as to what counts as a trigger so if drowning counts as a possible trigger then there's a trigger warning on this chapter.
> 
> oh and Jack basically wears what he does in my other fic, Starting a book from the middle. Long-sleeved shirt that's rolled up to the elbows, jeans, and a waistcoat.  
> Also he has brown hair in this.
> 
> Comments and feedback are always appreciated! -3-

Jack woke to a yelp, and he gave a little jolt, making a very dignified sound that was along the lines of _‘Mmgnnn?’_  
  
He shifted, turning his head to look towards Jamie- who had a hand pressed against his head, and was seemingly trying to remember something.  
It took a while, but he eventually reigned in enough brain cells to sleepily mumble, ‘What?’  
  
Jamie took equally as long in replying, and when he did, he did so slowly. ‘What happened?’ He sounded a tad nervous.  
  
Jack snuggled into the pillow, hugging it with both arms, muffled and barely understandable, ‘You were drunk over your ex, and I drove you home. You wouldn’t let go of my arm, so I stayed here.’  
  
‘In the bed?’  
  
‘Hey it’s more comfortable than the floor.’  
  
His eyes flicked open, and Jamie looked a little relieved.  
  
The next thing asked was tentative. ‘So, nothing happened?’  
  
Jack gave a small shake of his head. ‘Nothin’ happened.’  
  
A while after that, Jamie went into the bathroom to get dressed(giving Jack a little bit of a look when he stood up and found that he wasn’t wearing pants- ‘Jeans are uncomfortable to sleep in,’ was Jack’s reply, though he'd slept in his waistcoat) and came back out shortly after, giving Jack another one of the _looks_ that he seemed to be getting a lot that morning.  
  
He had the collar of his shirt pulled down, enough to see the hickey, which, to Jack’s quiet satisfaction, had grown darker.  
  
‘Jack, when did I get this?’  
  
He got a shrug.  
  
‘You were drunk long before I got there. Could’ve happened then.’  
  
Jamie made the trying-to-remember face again, then dropped his hand and did as Jack had done; giving a small, barely-there shrug.  
  
  
-  
  
Jack always cut the fingernails of his victims.  
  
It wasn’t that he cared what the nails looked like, it was but merely a precaution. Lack of nails meant less chances of him being scratched, and lack of scratching was important, since one could lead to all sorts of irritating loops he’d have to jump through.  
  
This one, he was glad he’s cut the nails of.  
  
They hadn’t been any longer than a normal mans, but the guy was putting up one hell of a fight.  
  
Jack’s hands were locked around the man’s throat, fingertips digging into the flesh, cool water up past his elbows.  
In his expression, in his posture, there was little trace of the man that had earlier in the day sleepily told his friend how he had taken him home after he had gotten wasted.  
  
The man was thrashing in the reeds, legs kicking out, getting Jack a good one in the stomach once, before he settled that problem, pinning his legs together with his own, while the man’s arms were trying to get Jack off of him, pushing at his face, his chest, pawing at him in vain.  
  
Bucking up, trying to get his head above the water, to get a breath.  
  
Failing, the bubbles becoming lesser and less, until the struggling became weaker, slowed, and stopped, shortly after the bubbles did.  
  
Jack held him under for a few more seconds, just to be sure, even though he could no longer feel the thrumming of the mans pulse at his neck. He let go, the excitement starting to fade already, and started the clean up.  
  
-  
  
‘And where in the blazes were you?’  
  
‘Something came up –it was an emergency- and I had to leave.’  
  
Jack was being chewed out by Aster for missing his shift the previous night- when he took Jamie home. The Australian always seemed to make things just that little bit more difficult for Jack, though he’d expected getting asked anyway.  
  
‘And why should I believe you?’  
  
‘Ask Sandy, he was here at the time.’  
  
Aster looked at him for a couple of moments before grounding out, ‘Fine, I will,’ and turned and started trying to find the man.  
  
Aster didn’t bug him for the rest of the night.  
  
-  
  
This time, when Jamie came in, he stuck to ginger beer.  (‘I’d like to remember two nights in a row, thanks.’)  
  
Eventually, Jack said,  
  
‘I don’t know whether or not you want to talk about the whole thing last night, but I’m here if you want to.’  
  
He didn’t get a response for a while, Jamie staring into his drink, which was more or less what he had expected.  
  
But, after a while, he heard, ‘I didn’t get dumped or anything, I broke up with him.’  
  
‘Then why were you-‘  
  
‘I was drinking because I was angry at myself, for being so fucking stupid to stay with him for as long as I did. He’s the last kind of person that’s healthy to be with.’  
  
Jack didn’t have a reply to that, though Jamie still looked up at him and gave a small, slightly crooked smile.  
  
‘Now that we’ve covered that I’m a bit of a moron when it comes to relationships, can we switch topics?’  
  
Jack obliged.  
  
A little later on, when the both of them were laughing over something idiotic, the door to the bar slammed open, hitting the wall hard enough that most of the people turned towards the noise. The man who had thrown open the door was stocky, and a little mean-looking.  
  
Actually, he bore a lot of resemblance to a high-school jock, just a bit older.  
When Jamie turned to look, he whipped back round immediately, rubbed his eyes and groaned quietly,  
  
‘You have got to be fucking kidding me.’  
  
‘JAMIE.’  
And then he was coming towards them.  
  
Jack could see the change in Jamie’s behaviour at the voice, the way his shoulders tightened and he seemed to draw in on himself, as if to make a smaller target.  
His reaction automatically put the ex on Jack’s dislike list.  
  
‘Jamie, you can’t just fucking yell at me like that then run off.’  
  
‘Well, technically I walked off, no running was involved.’  
  
That earned a frown from the jock-not-jock. ‘Still, you can’t talk to me like that. I won’t let my boyfriend talk to me like that.’  
  
‘Unless you’ve forgotten, Andrew, I broke up with you.’  
  
‘Oh no, you’re not getting away that easy.’  
  
‘Go find another punching bag, I’m sick of being yours. Now kindly fuck off.’  
  
Andrew’s eyes widened, like he wasn’t used to his ‘punching bags’ talking back to him.  
  
‘Listen here you little fuck,’ his voice was getting louder ‘you do _not_ talk to me like that.’  
  
He continued, though Jack couldn’t hear him through the roaring in his ears. He walked around the bar, and waited next to Jamie, until the guy paused for breath.  
  
‘Get out.’  
  
Andrew blinked, like he hadn’t noticed Jack before then. ‘And why the fuck should I?’  
  
‘Because you’re making a scene. And, I don’t think he wants you here, as he so eloquently said.’  
  
The jock looked from Jamie to Jack and back again.  
  
‘What, you his cock slut now?’  
  
Quite frankly, that was enough. Jack stepped in, closer than he would have liked. He was shorter than the man, but he ignored that and growled,  
  
 _‘Get. Out.’_  
  
The guy looked like he was going to start yelling again, but Jack’s usual more-or-less-nice persona had slipped, and his expression changed subtly, into something that edged into _dangerous_.  
  
Once more, Jack said lowly,  
  
‘Get _out.’_  
  
Once he was satisfied that the man wasn’t going to walk back in, Jack turned to Jamie.  
  
‘You okay?’  
  
Jamie was looking at him, and he had an expression on that Jack couldn’t quite place, and didn’t reply, so Jack asked again.  
  
‘Hey, Jamie, you okay?’  
  
Jamie shook his head –not a denial, but like he was coming out of a daze, and said distractedly back,  
  
‘Yeah, yeah. Thank you.’  
  
Jack let out a breath, glancing at the closed bar door for a moment before back at Jamie.  
  
‘He really is a bit of an asshole, huh?’  
  
Jamie let out a little laugh, sounding like he hadn’t meant to. ‘Yeah, he is.’  
  
-  
  
Jack so far had only drowned strangers, people he didn’t know, so it was more difficult to pin him down as a suspect.  
  
However, he was very close to making an exception this time.  
  
About the only thing that stopped the man ending up in a lake somewhere with water in his lungs was that there were far too many people who had seen the fight, which could easily reflect suspicion onto Jack if or when the police came round.  
  
  
Though he really would like to punch that dick in the face.


	3. Fair's fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always feel like such an oddball when i write this story  
> but oh well, you guys seem to like it and i get to write odd and interesting serial killers  
> win-win!

One night, when Jack was pouring Jamie's beverage of choice, Jamie blurted out,  
'Would you like to go have a drink with me sometime?'  
Jack raised an eyebrow and guestured towards the glass he was holding, though he was smiling slightly, obviously joking. Jamie gave him a fond look. 'You know what I mean.'

Jack slid the glass over, then leant against the counter, as he'd made a habit of doing whenever he talked to someone across the previously-mentioned counter. 'Why, Jamie Bennett, are you asking me out on a date?' It was pitched so he was damn near _purring_ , and Jamie coloured slightly and darted a glance down to his drink. 'Only if you're gonna say yes.'

-

Which led to them, a couple of days afterwards, going to, of all things, a fair.  
Yes, a fair.  
One of those pretty at-night ones with the lanterns and kids running everywhere with sparklers clutched in their hands and stalls and bright bright lights strung up with and alongside banners.  
Neither of them knew if it was for any special reason, or if it was simply passing through. They went anyway, cause Jamie had heard from his sister Sophie that it was 'mm, more or less above average,' which apparently in Sophie-speak meant that it was pretty good.

Jamie's translation of Sophie's words seemed to be accurate, since there were enough people there to make navigating a bit annoying, but few enough for the experience to still be enjoyable.

They wound their way through the crowd, looking at the stalls that intruigued them, Jamie occasionally gently tugging on Jack's sleeve to get his attention before leading him over to a stall, whereas Jack would brush up against Jamie then quietly shift over to the stall that had caught his eye.  
They got little things, little trinkets, tokens that surved two purposes, to admire simply because they liked them, and to remind them of that night. (After all, is that not what every object is for? To admire, to please, and to remind?)

They tried their luck on some of those usual fairground games, the ones that cheat so that almost no-one wins and everyone above the age of ten knows that but they still wonder if they could get the thing that is offered as a prize.  
In one such game, Jack ended up with a teddy bear that was almost bigger than his torso.  
He gave it to Jamie, grinning as the man tried to get a grip around the bear's belly, letting out a triumphant 'Ha!' when he finally managed to.  
They both attempted bobbing for apples, both of them coming up each time without the intended apple- Jamie because apples are bloody difficult to get a hold of in that situation, and Jack because he was focusing more on what the water felt like on his face than the apples themselves. They dried their hair off a little with a couple of towels the stallholder had, and continued on around the fair.

At some point, some woman walked up to them, which meant they had to stop in their tracks. She all but ignored Jack, instead, talking to Jamie, her body language rather flirtatious.  
That did not help her standing with Jack.  
And then, she opened her mouth.

'You wanna get out of here and go do something a little more fun?'  
It seemed that Jamie was expecting anything but that, and he blinked, mouth opening then closing with a line of stammering and he half-turned to Jack, which was when Jack leaned forwards, more into the womans line of sight.  
'Hey. He's with me tonight, please move along.'  
To say that he was trying to be nice was an understatement. He was trying not to drag her to the nearest batch of water he could find, maybe even the apple bobbing barrel, and shove her head down under it.  
He gave a small smile, and gently took Jamie by the arm and tugged him along.

After Jack had simmered down a bit, they ended up on the main fair attraction.  
The ferris wheel.  
Now Jack wasn't afraid of heights.  
He wasn't.  
He just.. didn't like there being so little between him and the ground.  
So instead of watching the view, as most people tend to do on a ferris wheel, he watched Jamie, who was doing the normal person thing and looking out over the fair lights and stalls and over the trees and the lakes..  
Watching him, Jack got an urge to do something that he very very rarely got the urge to do.  
When the wheel slowed to a stop, and they were suspended there, not quite at the tippy top of the wheel but pretty close, Jamie turned, probably to say something to Jack, and paused. 'What?' he asked, which was understandable because Jack was _still looking at him._ So, Jack acted on the urge.  
He leant forward and kissed him.

  
-

Jack hadn't intended to grab the woman.  
He hadn't planned to take anyone to the shed any time soon, in case Jamie would notice something off.  
However, when he'd been leaving his morning shift she'd been walking out across from him, obviously having had a few drinks, probably at the other half of the bar, because he had sure as hell not seen her.  
It was the woman who had flirted with Jamie at the fair.

Now, Jack didn't really understand holding hands and being all shmoopy and lovey-dovey and all that jazz.  
He could act it passingly, if he needed to.  
But he never understood it.  
But even though he didn't understand that, with Jamie, he fully understood what it was like to want to know the other person like the back of your hand, to be with them 24/7, and the hot _possessiveness_ that curls inside, like a red-hot poker.

It was easy enough to get her into his van, fairly easy getting her into the shack, telling her it was a place to hook up.  
She eventually figured out that something was just a little bit wrong with the situation when he was pressed against her in the chair, then a handcuff latched around her wrist, then to the chair, followed closely by the other hand.  
By the time that the scotch tape _ssskkkrrrcchhhh_ 'ed out, she was yelling.  
However, Jack had picked the shack well. No-one around to hear any unwanted screaming(as demonstrated), and far enough in the woods that not many people would venture to it.  
And, any direction or another, if you got in the car and drove for a few minutes, there would be a lake.  
Which suited Jack just fine.

  
The first time the knife bites into her skin, she makes a muffled noise behind the tape, and Jack all but  _snarls_ , eyes wild, 'He's _mine.'_

He makes sure he doesn't hit anything major, but at some point the woman passes out,  
and he decides that it's probably about time for the lake.  
She doesn't know that she wouldn't have another concious breath of air.

Streaks of blood are all over his arms, his shirt, though no scratches on him, no wounds at all, all of the pain inflicted in the shack, all of it inflicted on her.  
She wakes up again, jolted from unconciousness by the water.  
She tries to fight, of course, but doesn't do well, weak due to lack of blood, from not being able to breathe.  
Fingers digging into her neck, cool water lapping at his arms, legs, the struggles of the woman slowling, the pulse against his fingers stopping.  
Soon, the water is the only thing moving against his limbs.

He cleans up, much calmer than before, and ends up ditching the shirt he'd been wearing, grabbing one of the extras he keeps in the shed.

He's finished cleaning up, when he looks out over the lake, and notices that he's managed to get blood in his hair.  
Another look at the lake, a moments deliberation, and he dives into the water.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huh, two chapters in a day  
> wew!  
> i don't really beta this, so if you guys find any errors, would you be so kind as to tell me? please and thank you!

After the dip in the lake, and when he'd grabbed yet more spare clothes from the shack(he'd have to bring some more round soon, he mused), he drove back down to the bar, where he said he'd meet Jamie. -Who was there, punctual as he always was.  
'Sorry I'm a little late,' Jack projected a small amount of guilt into his voice. 'It's okay,' Jamie responded, 'I only just got here anyway.' There was a small quiet as he clicked on his seatbelt, and Jack shifted gear.  
'Why's your hair wet?'  
'Hm? Oh,' Jack gave a short, quiet laugh, and ran a hand through it. 'I went for a swim.'

  
-

  
'Okay so I've got this odd little list of things I ask people, and I realised recently that I haven't asked you them.'  
They were seated outside of a little shop that wasn't quite a cafe but couldn't be anything else, sipping on their drinks and waiting for their food to come.  
'Shoot.'  
'Some of them are a bit weird, just in advance.'  
'Most questions usually are.'  
'Okay. What where they- ah. Thoughts on chocolate?'  
'If people could survive on it alone, that's all I would eat.'  
'Thank god, I've never been able to get along with people who don't like chocolate. It's like they're going against nature.'

'Favourite book?'  
'Hannibal Rising.'  
Jamie's eyebrows went up a little. 'Interesting tastes, some people would be put off by that answer.'  
Jack's shoulder came up in a shrug. 'It's about an interesting, unusual character that's very different from the norm. There aren't enough books like that. What's yours?'  
'Fight club.'  
'The movie's good.'  
'The book's even better.'

'Showers or baths?'  
Very definitely baths. Jack would lie there, often for too long, slipping under the surface, and wondering what it would feel like to open his mouth and take a big gulp- and never doing it.  
'Baths.'

'What do you think of love- oh and death? There are always interesting answers for this one.'  
Jack considered it for a moment, then replied, 'I think it'll be like drowning.'  
Jamie's forehead creased in a small frown, and his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.  
'Which one?'  
'Both.'  
'Why do you figure?'  
Jack's mouth gave an odd little twitch of a smile before he responded.  
'Because. You try to hold your head above the water, but unless-and even if- someone else comes along, you're going to go under at some point, and not be able to do a damned thing about it.'  
A blink, as Jamie absorbed that.  
Then he said quietly, 'Sometimes I think you're too good to be real.'  
An odd look passed across Jack's face, and he slowly replied, 'Believe me, I'm one of the most real people you'll ever meet.'

-

They were heading to the shack, after Jack had suggested it. ('It's out of the way and the scenery is pretty striking more often than not.')  
But then, just as they got out of the truck and had started the five or so minute walk towards it, the heavens opened, and rain came pouring down in _buckets_.

For some reason, the idea of turning back and getting back in the car didn't even occur to either of them. _Keep moving forward,_ as that movie says, I suppose.

At multiple points, both of them almost tripped, sometimes over their own feet, but gained balance before they did so. Jack had to go first, since he knew the way, so Jamie was following a slightly fuzzy weaving blur of white/black.

Finally, finally they made it to the shack- Jamie got inside first, since Jack had waited outside to make sure he had actually been following him, though Jack was just a second or so behind him.  
They both flopped down onto the floor, dripping, and panting a little from the run. Jamie just fully starfished on the floorboards, whereas Jack sat, legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms.  
For a few minutes, there was just the sound of them trying to catch their breath, along with the sound of raining pounding down onto the roof and the world outside. Jack turned to look at Jamie, mouth open, going to say something, then stopped.  
At this point, Jamie in turn glanced over at Jack, since he'd caught the movement in the corner of his eye. 'Were you gonna say someth-' he cut off, due to the look that was being directed towards him. Jack's eyes were dark, possibly darker than he'd seen them before, lids dropped a little, and an almost predatory look stole over him, and Jamie swallowed. He could see the movement being tracked. 'Uhhh..'

It was a little thing, a simple thing, something to be expected in the situation. Basically, water had pooled in the hollow of Jamie's throat. Jack hadn't expected it, and definitely hadn't anticipated how much he wanted to go over there and lick it up.  
He shifted over to Jamie, half on autopilot, not thinking about it, moving so that his legs bracketed Jamie's hips.  
By now, Jamie had clicked as to something was going on, and he started up this stammering(that didn't actually include any words) when Jack more or less straddled him, and his cheeks had flushed- though that could have been left over from the running.  
Jack's hand came up, gently lifting up Jamie's chin, while his head ducked down, to get at his neck-  
and his tongue pressed into the hollow of Jamie's throat, dragging upwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my planning for this part of the story was sketchy at best so i was sort of bullshitting half of it so yeah  
> but soon i should be able to get into the bit which i have planned the hell out of and am looking forward to very much  
> and yes this chapter is weird as hell and also a little bit shorter than the rest but oh well.
> 
> yes i did end the chapter with jack licking at jamie's neck like a ice block  
> yes i understand how weird that is  
> you guys might get a little bit more of that scene at the start of the next chapter but no promises  
> right now it's past eleven at night and i am tired and i was gonna do more but my brain has decided to die so here you guys go jack licking jamie's neck good nIGHT live long and prosper y'all~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit gonna start goin down  
> prepare yourselves
> 
> also where i am 111 is the emergency number just thought I should clarify for the rest of you guys out there

This one was causing trouble, was the drug was wearing off much faster than Jack had anticipated.

The man was starting to fight against him, arms hitting at Jack’s back, nails dragging down his arms and neck and anywhere he could reach.

Part of Jack’s lip lifted in a soundless snarl, teeth bared, even though the man below him had his eyes squeezed shut, seeming to choose blocking out the water over wanting to see who was trying to drown him- for now at least.

The man’s movements were slowly ebbing in strength, and were becoming a little floppy, less driven, less annoying. Suddenly, he heard a faint- ‘Jack?’

_Shit._

 

-

 

Jamie was poking around the shack. He had expected to see Jack there, since a fair amount of his spare time he seemed to spend there.

At that moment, Jack _wasn’t_ there. Not particularly surprising, really, it was a long shot, but he didn’t have a shift that day, and he hadn’t been at his house.

Jamie didn’t have any reason to seek him out, simply wanted to see him- though he did want to show him the newspaper from a few days back, announcing a victim from the drowning serial killer that had been around recently, and Jamie couldn’t quite put his finger on where he knew the woman. He figured Jack might know, that she might be someone from TV or something.

 

Something about the inside of the shack bothered him. Last time he’d been in here, he hadn’t really had much of time to look around, considering.

Now, he noticed piles of rope, which was fairly usual for a shed of any kind, and shelves cluttered with various things that every practical person uses, like duct tape and a few folding knives, and tarpaulins, and hell even a bucket of paint or two.

However, the fact that there was a pair of _handcuffs_ , of all things, jammed haphazardly between two boxes on one of the shelves a row or two back, set him on edge a little, because he couldn’t really think of a reason for Jack to have them.

Well, no normal reason anyway.

Maybe Jack was into some... interesting activities-

 

Jamie was outside the shack, doing a tight circle around it, noting the fact that it was fairly well kept, considering how annoying it was to get to sometimes.

He decided to call out, see if Jack was anywhere nearby.

 

 

Soon afterwards, just when he was about to turn tail and leave, he heard the rustling of leaves on his right, and Jack pushed out of the bushes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and half of him wet in no logical pattern that Jamie could discern.

He had opened his mouth to say something, when two things happened.

1)      He noticed how wild the other man’s eyes were,

2)      Jack said so fast his words blurred together slightly, _‘Jamie I think there’s a man in the lake and I can’t tell if he’s alive’_

 

As Jack led him there as fast as he could, a near-frantic short conversation was held.

‘Did you try to get him out?’  
‘I did, but he’s too far in for me to get by myself.’

Well, at least that partly explained the water-splashed Jack.

 

They got to the edge of the lake, and Jamie saw the man, in more or less the middle of the lake, where it’s deepest, and couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not- he was moving, slightly, but not enough to ease Jamie’s worry any.

‘Okay you- you call one-one-one and I’ll go in and try and get him and you come help immediately when you can’

 

As Jamie was emptying his pockets of anything that water could ruin, he thought he saw a trace of a sneer on Jack’s face as he thumbed the ‘1’ button thrice- but was quickly distracted by that by the fact that shit there was someone in the lake who was only moving weakly and Jamie wasn’t sure if he’ll be able to get to the man cause he wasn’t exactly a tall guy and the water was already up to his knees and he wasn’t anywhere near close enough to reach the man.

 

 

 

Getting the guy out ended up being a little bit of a blur to Jamie. He remembered starting to slog through the water in half a panic, the water getting up to his armpits and only just being able to grab the guy(helped a little by the rope around the mans ankles), and getting back to the shore.

He didn’t really remember the time from that to when the ambulance arrived, but he got a faint recollection of Jack checking the man’s pulse and breathing, and making a face.

At the time, Jamie wasn’t concentrating on what the expression was.

 

There was a bundle of confusion when the people came, with the lights and the stretchers and toting those bags that Jamie had only ever seen on TV, and by the time they’d wrapped him in a blanket and sat him down to ask him questions (Were you the one who come across him? _No, it was my friend Jack_. Did you see anyone else? _No, just Jack._ Where is he?) he looked around and realised that Jack was nowhere to be found. ( _I don’t know. He was here when I got the man out_.) And then, some questions about Jack(What’s his full name? _Jackson Overland Frost._ Is he usually around here? _Yeah, he’s got a shack a wee way back, that’s where I was before he came running to tell me._ Where would he have gone if he left here?) and yet more of them, which the people said where purely routine follow up ones.

By the looks they traded from time to time, Jamie wasn’t entirely sure about that.

The way they phrased some of the questions about Jack, like they were stepping on eggshells around Jamie, and the look in their eyes when he answered some other ones, made Jamie start to wonder.

 

‘Is this related to that guy in the paper who’s been drowning people?’ He sounded scared, worried.

The people exchanged a look, then one of them said carefully, ‘We think it’s a definite possibility. It’s got most of the markers for the others.’

 

And then, they sent him on his way, with the promise to check in on him soon.

 

-

 

 

The man from the lake survived.

Just barely.

 

 

Jamie was the one who told Jack,

and was the one who saw how his expression shifted at the news.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is the second to last chapter- however, it can also be considered the last chapter, if you finish the chapter and find out that you don't want to continue it.  
> which is likely.  
> uh  
> just a warning for sad things in this chapter  
> it earned a new warning tag

They didn’t see each other for a couple of weeks, neither of them really trying to contact the other, aside from the occasional text.

Jamie didn’t go anywhere near where Jack worked, and vice versa.

 The silence was a little unnerving, considering what Jamie was chewing over.

 

He ended up waiting in the shack for a few hours when he thought Jack was going to come to it, fiddling with the newspaper with the woman on it, wondering if it was a good idea, if he was wrong- all of him hoped he was, that he was just blowing things completely and utterly out of proportion.

The bad thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was wrong or right.

 

 

Jack eventually, eventually came into the shack, stalling for a second, blinking, when he saw Jamie sitting in a chair that he’d dragged to the middle of the clear space.

Then he noticed the newspaper in his hands, the picture plastered across the front, and an odd sort of smile appeared on his face. Not happy, one that was sad, like he was thinking _‘I knew this would happen.’_

 

‘Jamie.’ He shut the door, it closing quietly. His hands slipped into his pockets, and his body language was loose, but he hadn’t moved from in front of the door. Both of them noted that, neither of them mentioned it. ‘What’re you doing here?’

 

As way of answer, Jamie held up the newspaper, the picture facing away from him, and he assessed Jack’s reaction to it- a slight shift, his feet shuffling a tiny bit. A head tilt, then his gaze dragged upwards, from the black and white photograph to Jamie’s face.

 

He tapped the photo. ‘Is this the woman from the fair?’

‘There were a lot of women at the fair.’

Jamie gave him a look, and Jack rolled his eyes, making it slow, exasperated, from the wall to the ceiling, then back down to Jamie. ‘Do you mean the one that hit on you?’

‘That’s the only woman that I found any form of significance in, yes.’

‘I only met her once. I don’t know, it looks like her, might be.’

 

They weighed each other up, and after a long, long quiet, Jamie stood, and took a step closer.

 

When he spoke, he did so slowly, so that there was no chance of him being misunderstood.

‘Jack, did you kill her?’ _and by implication, all the others?_

 

He was half expecting, and hoping against hope, that Jack would give an incredulous scoff and ask him what the hell kind of a question was that.

 

Instead, he got a measured look, and another head tilt. No denial. Not even an attempt at one- he was just looking at Jamie with a moderately straight face, oddly calm, his expression saying ‘ _What do you think?’_

 

‘Oh my god.’ The words were barely there, jagged and hoarse, and Jamie’s hands were up, the heels of his hands scrunching into his eyes, most of him still trying in vain to explain a way out of this, there was no way that Jack could do this to all these people-

 

‘Jamie-‘

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he jerked back, away from it.

As he was lowering his hands, he thumbed a button, and the tiny little tinny _bing_ was far louder than it usually was.

Jack stilled.

 

'I'm sorry, Jack.' Jamie’s hand lost it’s grip and his phone dropped from his hand, hitting the floor with a dull _thunk._ Jack's eyes tracked back up to Jamie's face, where an odd mix of guilt and sadness were warring, fighting for dominance. But only the slightest hint of fear.  
'You've _killed_ people. You shouldn't be allowed to get away with that.' Jack swallowed as the tell-tale sounds of the sirens at the edge of hearing, quickly getting louder. He wondered how they could have gotten there so fast. Maybe they’d been laying in wait, just waiting for the message, for the right time, as a tiger does its prey.  
  
He could feel the weight of the gun resting heavily in his pocket as he shifted closer to Jamie, his expression something close to regret.

'Jamie..'

-Who stepped away from him, quick.

The sirens, close, oh so close now.

 

Jack stepped forward, anticipating the attempted dodge to the side that Jamie tried, copying him and doing the same, catching his wrists and holding them, tight enough that he was fairly sure he was going to bruise later, though he knew that one way or another he'd never get to see the blue-purple layered over white.

 

By the time that the police had done their usual routine shouting and banging loudly through the door, guns aimed, they found Jack's own one level with Jamie's temple.

'Put the gun down.' 

 

Jack didn't move, and he knew that they hadn't really expected him to.

'Jackson Overland. You're under arrest for the murder of seven people. Don't make it another to add to the charge.'

 

His little smile quirked the corner of his mouth up, and a feeling that he hadn't known before Jamie continued to simmer in his gut. ‘Seven always was my unlucky number.’

 

Jamie's hands were at the arm of Jack's that was across his throat. It wasn't tight, definitely not enough to cut off any of his air, but probably uncomfortable.

 

Jack was hit with a sudden _want_ to know what expression he was making.

 

'Jamie..'

It was soft, barely tickling the boy's ear, though he got a partial flinch.

_'Jamie, I'm sorry.'_

  
It was the only time in his life that he truly meant the words.

Suddenly, he shoved Jamie out of the direct line of fire, and lifted his arm- the one with the gun- towards the cop nearest him.

He knew that they’d have to take measures, have to pull the trigger before he did, but he still wasn’t fully prepared for the bang, for the impact that overbalanced him, sent him down to the floorboards, gun being kicked away from his grasp.

 

Police, the blue everywhere, uniform layered over uniform, checking his pulse, yabbering into a radio on their shoulders and doing so many other things but the only thing Jack cares about, the only thing he wants to see and the only thing he can focus on then, is Jamie’s face.

 

The disbelief, still there, the shock.

Maybe it was the blood, he mused.

In the sides of his vision he could see the red pool spreading, and could feel his shirt and skin slick with it, sticking to him.

 

He felt an involuntary half-chuckle bubble up, make its way past his lips, and knew that it was twisted, dark.

 

He could see acutely, amongst other things, the pain on Jamie’s face.

Not physical, no that was Jack who had that, but the other kind.

The kind that would stay for far longer than any physical wound ever could.

And he was glad, because Jamie would never, never forget him. Even if he tried.

He would never forget him, never leave him, not entirely, never be erased from this one mans mind.

And that, for Jack,

was enough.

 

His mouth was slippery, and when he swallowed, some copper-tasting blood went down, though he could feel it coating his teeth, his tongue.

He convulsed in a cough, and his palm came away bloody, hand spattered with it. He could feel it trickle out of his mouth and down his chin and Jack’s on the floor again and he doesn’t care he doesn’t care because he can see Jamie.

 

He’s on the floor, looking up at Jamie’s scared face, and Jack’s smiling, just a little, and he says quietly, something that the cops ask Jamie about later, which he denies knowing the meaning of, didn’t know what Jack was talking about- but he does know what it means he does he does, because the last thing Jackson Overland Frost ever says, throaty and rasping just a little, is:

 

_‘It’s like drowning, Jamie…’_

_-_

_  
_

Jamie had always thought that Jack was pale, pale like eggs or porcelain. 

Like a touch a fraction too hard could shatter him, causing him to break and fragment, dropping to the carpet and getting lost in the weaves.

One little tap, 

let alone the punch of a bullet.

 

Now, now he was snow. 

He was blood-speckled snow, seeming paler and paler as more red appeared. 

Red, smothering the snow, blurring and tainting it, unable to get it back to the purity of before. 

 

Blood, so much blood.

And Jack was coughing, hand coming away red, mouth and chin smeared with it. 

Impossibly pale. 

 

No.

No more white, no more red. _Please. No more._  

Wash it away. 

Water.

_Water?_

_Drowning._

 

_ No. _

  
  
Red, popping up stark against the clear white of skin.   
No.  
 _No._  
  
Smeared, like a grotesque child's finger-painting, shredding any innocence present.   
  
 _If I blink it'll go away._  
It's not real.   
Jack didn't-  
Eyes squeezed shut,   
it's not working.   
  
It's not working and Jamie can still smell the metallic scent, can almost taste it on his tongue.   
 _No._  
 _Jack's not-_  
A killer? Dead?  
  
Eyes open and he is both.  
Eyes closed and he is both.  
No escaping from the scent, nor from the red that days later Jamie swore was coating his hands, over his skin. Nor was there forgetting Jack’s last words, last breath.  
When he breathed out, and just didn’t breathe back in. 

  
Jack's gone and so is a part of Jamie.   
Jack's blood ran red, so red, when it shouldn't have been spilt on the floorboards at all. 

Jack's gone and even weeks later, Jamie feels like he got shot too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so  
> yeah.  
> yeaaaaah.  
> ....yeahp.  
> im not a nice person i'm sorry  
> i've been planning this chapter basically since i got the idea of the fic  
> so..  
> sorry guys
> 
> the next chapter will be from Jamie's perspective, and be about.. after this happened.  
> be warned- its not gonna be a happy.  
> then again, neither was this one.
> 
> p.s i'm a horrible person and i just realised that i was listening to a cover of 'if i die young' when i was writing most of this


	7. After.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am a horrible person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.  
> here marks the end of a journey.  
> feels odd, to be finishing a fic.  
> 'specially a fic like this one.  
> god i'm gonna miss these two like this  
> oH and i have a little playlist for the fic- i'll put it in the notes at the end.
> 
> aND LOOK SOMEONE DID A FANART HOLYJEEBUS  
> http://yarrayora.tumblr.com/post/63815018583/because-even-after-so-long-he-somehow-still-had  
> oo look another fanart!  
> http://rotgdtmgatlaetc.tumblr.com/image/68465373693
> 
> i love them! laskjdfhg thank you so so so much -3-

Afterwards, in the therapy and the questions and the _questions_ ,  Jamie would be asked a great many things. About whether he’d known about what Jack was, if he’d ever seen any indications towards it.

One of the questions that someone(Jamie never remembered who) raised, was if Jack had actually properly cared about Jamie, had been able to do so, or if he was just a very good faker, a good actor.

That made Jamie look back.

It made him think,

made him wonder,

about what had been real, if any of Jack’s movements towards him, any of his feelings had been faked.

 

He mulled it over, and over, and over and over for years, never entirely settling down on one side he was positive about.

(The back of his mind refused to think that Jack was anything but true in that perspective.)

 

He second-guessed things he had been certain about before, it shed some light on a few things (namely the look Jack sometimes got when he was around him, like Jack was the predator, and he the prey.)

 Wondered, about if he’d thought about killing him- or more likely, how many times he’d thought about it. Wondered about what had been going through his head at any one time.

Wondered about how Jack had thought of him, how he’d viewed him.

 

And a few years down the track, worst of all, Jamie thought that if he’d been given a second chance, if he could do-over that moment, he’d choose the other option, and never hit send, never call the police there, never end up killing Jack.

 

 

 

Who knew that years later, Jamie found that he could recover just a little bit of the piece that had been missing from him ever since that trigger got pulled.

  
Who knew that Jack had twisted Jamie's view of the world, even long after he was gone. 

  
Who knew that Jamie would follow Jack's watery and bloody path, carefully finding his steps and fitting his shoes to match the tread?

 

 

 

Which is to say,

Years pass, and Jamie started to try to keep Jack alive, in his own way.

And that way, was much like Jack’s way.

 

He started on the days that Jack had,

started copying him,

started pushing peoples heads under the water, holding them,

till they ceased to breathe, to struggle for life.

till they gave up, till their bodies refused any more, and shut down, never to reboot.

 

Because even after so long,

he somehow, still had feelings for Jack, for that man,

and he didn’t understand, he didn’t understand why Jack had done it, why he’d do such a thing.

And then, then he started to feel like Jack was slipping away from him.

And there was no way he could  let that happen.

 

It corroded his mind, and he ended up just the same as Jack, killing the same days has he had to keep the pattern(and him) alive, to keep some remnant of him around, close to him.

 

Drowning people, made him feel like Jack was closer, and that he understood him a little better.

Drowning people made him feel like for those moments, Jack was back with him, and helping him, arms helping to push, their grin-of-sorts matching, like 'his and her' mugs.

He didn't want to be alone any more.

Didn't have to feel like he was, when someones head hit the water and went under.

 

Except the endgame was different than before.

He ends it,

ends the pattern,

on the same day Jack’s had so abruptly halted.

 

He stood there, in the same room, the same shack(both he and the wood around him were more broken than before).

 

But he didn’t call the police- felt like it was too intrusive, didn’t want them to shatter the strenuous and thin connection that was left between him and Jack.

 

Before all of this,

Just after the blood on the wood and so many of the questions, the police arrived on Jamie’s door and gave him something.

It was a letter- they had to read it, to see if it held a confession or something of that kind.

The woman who handed it to him averted her eyes when she did so. Jamie didn’t understand why she had until he read the letter.

 

It seemed that Jack had anticipated the police, since there were very few ways that the whole charade could have ended.

Seemed like he had anticipated something along those lines, and had written Jamie a letter, just in case, and never told Jamie about it, knowing that the police should give it to him eventually.

 

At the time, with the police woman just having left the door, and left alone leaning against the door, Jamie had read it through, and hadn’t been able to fully process it, and had stuffed it into his pocket, where it soon migrated to his wallet, where he then kept it at all times.

In the years afterwards, he’d read it too many times to count, had taken it out and had to fold it so many times that the paper was worn, some of the creases starting to wear the occasional words away. Not that Jamie needed it anymore, he had memorized it long ago. But seeing Jack’s scribbling scrawl, comforted him like little else could.

 

In the shack, looking around and seeing how it had changed since he’d last been here, more run down and banged up, his head tilted slightly to the side, as if he were listening to something.

He gives a small, slightly twisted and horribly broken smile, and his hands come out of his pockets, one holding the old worn letter, the other, something that glinted in the dim light filtering through the cracks of the shack roofing.

 

He could recite the letter in his sleep, but he wants to see Jack’s writing, doesn’t want to feel alone in this place.

 

He smoothes the paper open, thumbing over the words.

 

He wants Jack with him, but since that’s not an option, he decided to go to him when there was no more trail to follow, no more Jack to mimic.

So he decided to follow him, into the black, without a fear.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

His only fear, is that he wont see Jack again.

But he’s got a better chance this way, so he’ll take it.

 

The gun is heavy in his hand, odd.

But the words that he now knows so well, they’re there, they’re comfortable. They make him calm.

 

It’s cold against the underside of his jaw, and part of him resents the fact that he’s going to end up ruining the letter, even if he’s no longer around to know so.

 

He lets out a slow breath, and the sad look is back in his eyes, with the smallest hint of a smile about his mouth.

‘I suppose I’m going to find out if it’s really like drowning, huh, Jack?’

The only sound that could serve as a reply was Jamie pulling the trigger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_'Jamie._

_I don't know where I am as you read this -and I know that you're_ going _to read it at some point; it's just a matter of when._

_  
Anyway._

_  
I don't know if you're going to come up to me after this, or steer clear for a while, or even try to never see me again._

_But I'm getting away from the point. Hell, I haven't really started._  
Might as well do that now.  
Jamie, I have feelings for you. Deep ones. And not simply ones a friend would have.  
Don't make that face. I do, it's the truth.  
I wouldn't lie about something like this, no matter what other lies may come to light. This one is true, as much a fiction as the sun.

_I know that I don't seem to express it in the way "normal" people are used to, the one that has people making goo-goo eyes at each other, and in a way, I'm sorry about that._  
It's--I’m... possessive. I don't want anyone near you, no-one except me.   
Since that's not bound to happen in this day and age, I suppose that's off the table.  
I want to mark you as mine, so the whole world can see, and so they keep their hands off.  
I want you, in every way possible.  
I'm obsessive, and obsessed.   
With you.

_It's not very rational, but this sort of thing doesn't seem to be._

_Rationality has long since gone out of the window, along with a dangerous amount of common sense._

_You're too good for me, and I want to sully that goodness, drag you down to my level since I can't change who I am.  
I'm not good for you. Never have been. But you have stayed so far, and I'm glad._

_I don't really know what else I can say without rehashing what I've already said._  
  
 _It really is like drowning, Jamie, no matter what anyone else says. You dragged me under the waves and I couldn’t do a thing about it, though I must say that I’ve come to enjoy the feeling of the water in my lungs._  
 _You try to cough it out and you end up choking on it. So I’ve stopped trying to cough._  
  
 _It’s like drowning and let no-one else tell you differently._

_Come to think of it, I've never properly said what this whole thing, both our relationship and this letter specifically, is about.  
Let’s correct that._

_Jamie Bennett, I love you.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hOLY SHIT i finished something what is this scorcery 
> 
> i think this made my platonic soulmate (who is also one of my best friends on the other side of the world) cry
> 
> Songs for this fic(mainly the last couple of chapters):
> 
> Sin With A Grin - Shinedown  
> I Saw You Die - Apollo Drive  
> Never Alone - Barlow Girls  
> Devour - Shinedown  
> Dear Jamie - HelloGoodbye  
> Love Will Leave a Mark - RED  
> Same Disease - RED  
> Still - Daughter  
> Get Away With Murder - Jefree Star?  
> Bruises and Bitemarks - Good With Grenades  
> Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons  
> Serial Killer - Lana Del Ray  
> Love is a Suicide - Natalia Kills  
> The Horror of Our Love - Ludo  
> All To Myself - Marianas Trench  
> Prisoner - Jeffree Star  
> I'm Not Alright - Shinedown  
> Hold Me Now - RED  
> Overtake You - RED  
> No Tenderness - i do not know who by  
> Cat and Mouse - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus  
> Bless the Broken Road - idek who tbh  
> Fall From Grace - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus  
> I Own You - Shinedown  
> Hard Way Home - Brandi Carlile  
> Call Me - Shinedown  
> Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford and Sons  
> Gave It All Away - RED  
> Anatome - Jaime Preciado  
> Lie To Me - im not sure who eep  
> As It Seems - Lily Kershaw  
> One Track Mind - Papa Roach  
> Forever - RED  
> Never Be The Same - RED  
> Glass House - RED  
> The Moment We Come Alive - RED  
> Stomach Tied In Knots - Sleeping With Sirens  
> With Ears to See and Eyes to Hear - Sleeping With Sirens
> 
> god it feels so odd to have finished something god im gonna miss my murderous bbys

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [His Brightest Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001086) by [mynameisyarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisyarra/pseuds/mynameisyarra)




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